Chapter 596: Fate
"Have you seen fate? Wertling by the brook."
Nelson heard the sound of a gurgling stream. He opened his eyes and found that he was sitting on a high-backed chair made of twisted roots of an ancient tree. It had exactly the same shape as the pointer throne on top of Alexander, but this green leaf Surrounding, sprouts and old roots, the coiled seat brings a completely different feeling. Compared with the sharpness of the hour hand and the sense of urgency brought by time, this green vitality presents an ancient and long-lasting feeling. Even Nelson, who was sitting on it, became calm and unhurried.
This is where? Nelson had never been to or heard of such a place. Compared with the crazy battlefield not long ago, the tranquility and peace here were suffocating.
With a slight effort in his back, Nelson wanted to stand up from the chair, but his body seemed to be stuck to these tree roots, making it difficult to move. He looked intently, and saw that the tanned ropes intertwined with laurel and thorns were buckled around him. On his arm, even his chest was bound by a thick rope, and the sharp thorns of those thorns pierced deeply into his body as he struggled, but he didn't feel the pain, but felt a rush of laurel The fragrance was spreading from his heart to the depths of his consciousness.
Where did the wand go, and the black robe was replaced with a windbreaker, which was the one he often wore during the Paris World Expo. Nelson still did not pay attention to the surrounding environment, letting the question just now slow down in the distant forest. Drifting slowly, the clumsy accent combined with the gentle female voice is the combination that is most likely to gain favor.
He lowered his head and stared at the ropes that bound his hands. There was a "thread" on each side, which were a section of thorns and a section of laurel. His peripheral vision swept across the sparkling stream beside him, and the wrist of his left hand twisted flexibly. , Grab the protruding thorns and snap it off. Relatively hard wood is more suitable for magic than soft rattan.
Nelson raised his head abruptly, and his gaze was firmly fixed on the figure standing against a tree in the shadow of the forest ahead. In the reflection of the stream, he saw the shadow there. In the next second, a red beam of light shot straight at the man In the direction where he was standing, the vines that restrained him were also cut off by invisible sharp blades. He narrowed his eyes, crossed his hands and moved his muscles and bones, looking at the position hit by the curse.
The light of the Stunning Charm illuminated a dark corner under the shade of a tree, and a woman dressed in simple linen was looking at him with a smile. Her eyes were like sculptures, just a piece of pure white with a soft light, a The laurel tanned waist simply outlines the body line, which seems to be pure but does not completely fit its standard. The cumbersome long sleeves and layers of cloth are discarded, and there is no decoration on the whole body, except for that A belt made of laurel.
There was a big hole in her chest, where Nelson's spell had just hit. The edge of the crack was mottled and rough like marble, but Nelson couldn't see her internal organs through the big hole, and no drop of blood flowed out. , On the contrary, there is a cloud of misty smoke rolling in it, quickly filling the edge of the hole.
Nelson frowned. He recognized this woman, the ancient Greek priestess Pythia, and the irony was that the face on her was the version of the sculpture downstairs in the Nurmengard Library.
"A boring trick."
Nelson waved the thorn in his hand, and the ancient tree beside him slowly grew arms under the influence of the transfiguration technique. A slender handle extended from its palm, and wrapped around the scattered stone flakes. A primitive but sharp The stone ax was quickly polished into shape, and the treant took its heavy and slow steps, slashing in the forest, towering old trees collapsed, and the raised sand and wood chips obscured the sight of the two. , Nelson only saw Pythia smiled, and was swallowed by the flying leaves.
He wrinkled his nose, the smell of wood was so real, even the sawdust that flew onto his face exuded a strong smell, he picked up a twist of sawdust and rubbed it with his fingertips, the incomparably real touch was not like something made by magic environment.
Under the merciless "massacre" of the tree men, this dense virgin forest was quickly razed to the ground. The broken tree stumps squatted silently on the ground, and the dense annual rings stared at Nelson like eyes. He hated With this feeling of being surrounded by sight, he simply took the initiative to walk towards the woman in the forest.
Through the smoke and dust of sawdust and leaves, Nelson saw Pythia who was still standing there. The hole in her chest had completely healed, and a few drops of sweat condensed on her smooth and plump skin. Seeing Nelson approaching, she stretched out Shot, pointed the torch in the direction of his back with the torch in his hand.
"Wildening by the brook, have you seen fate?"
Nelson smiled. The torch in this Pythia's hand is even the same as the sculpture downstairs in the Nurmengard Library, except that the burning sun is missing. Looking closely, there are even some unnoticeable spots on her face. fine lines of marble.
"Sorry, I haven't seen it." Nelson didn't look in the direction of her finger. The magic power had already begun to condense on the tip of the thorn. He must hurry back to Berlin and return to reality. That is the place where nothing can be lost, " Do these trees know their fate is to be felled?"
Without a moment's hesitation, Nelson held out the thorn in his hand, pointed at Pythia, and shot a powerful impediment spell at her, but Pythia just turned slightly sideways, and avoided the fatal spell. The bombardment hit the water surface, setting off a tall splash.
"Of course they know," Pythia was still smiling. She seemed to be able to know Nelson's next move. Every time, she appeared a little far away from the spell, and even led Nelson's stick tip to him step by step. Behind him, "The scene you thought was caused by your own hands is exactly the fate they cannot avoid."
She had already circled Nelson half a circle. At this moment, Nelson's wand was pointing straight at her chest. Behind her was the seat where Nelson first woke up. Flowers had bloomed on the vines, and in the Not far behind the seat, a wooden horse as tall as a building is sealing the last piece of wood—its mane.
The corners of Nelson's eyes twitched. He didn't even notice where the felled logs went. In his sight, a group of warriors wearing Mycenaean-style armor suddenly appeared, holding the felled logs in line. Go in the direction of the wooden horse.
They passed by Nelson squarely, without squinting, as if Nelson beside him didn't exist at all. They chanted the old chant, and another group of craftsmen were sitting around the distant stream, cutting smaller pieces of wood. , making arrows and throwing spears, they were talking and laughing, but their eyes were full of tension and solemnity. A group of people dressed as priests were surrounding the place where Pythia had just stood, praying to an empty tree stump.
Nelson was a little puzzled by the behavior of these people, but soon, the wandering tree came back, walked between him and Pythia, stopped upright on top of the empty tree stump, and sat silently. It fell down and became the only tree still standing in this forest.
"Do you know where this is?" Pythia asked softly, like a teacher answering children's questions. If she was really the priestess, speaking of her age, she would not be able to speak to Nelson like this. No exaggeration, "Of course you know, you who love history, why don't you know the clever plan that this wizard who followed the army after nine years of siege came up with?"
"..."
Nelson didn't speak. He stared at the group of priests surrounding the big tree. They all held a black thorn in their hands. The thorn pierced their palms, and blood dripped into the ground. The magic power nourished the ancient tree driven by them.
"The thorns were the medium of spellcasting favored by wizards in that era. They were strong and sharp, suitable for manipulation and destruction. You made the right choice." Pythia turned sideways and folded a section on the right side of the seat. Laurel, "At this time, the wood that shows protection and peace can only be carried on the poet's head."
Nelson had a feeling of being led by her nose, which made him feel a little uncomfortable, but he didn't attack immediately, but worked harder to find loopholes in his surroundings.
He remembered when was the last time he saw a similar scene - on the train back to school in the first grade, Nelson flipped through a wizard's "Iliad", in which there was a passage in which ancient Greek wizards used transfiguration to transform ancient trees into The story of the Treemen felling trees, preparing warriors' weapons for the attack on Troy and making Trojan horses.
He saw through the essence of this so-called "Pythia". She fabricated the actual phantom from her own memory and used his memory to complete the self-consistent story. Bitten off the ancient tree, Pythia will also package it into a story about Nidhogg eating the world tree.
"interesting."
Nelson didn't find her boring anymore, he continued to attack Pythia with spells, and her dodge landed on the right position every time, and he felt more and more familiar with this dodge, which he used after analyzing the prophecy Alexander's combat method with computing power is unique and unique in the world, but it was easily reproduced by Pythia in front of him, and even reached the optimal solution of the prophet's battle in his imagination.
It seems that she can not only use her own memory, but also use her non-existent imagination.
Thinking of this, Nelson closed his eyes, and chanted the spell undisguisedly, every thorn of the thorns on his fingertips burst out with a glow of magic power.
"Thunderbolt explosion."
Even he himself doesn't know where the spell cast in this way will fly, will Pythia know?
After the aftermath of the explosion dissipated, he opened his eyes and looked at Pythia, whose body was half blown into mist, with a smile. She brushed the laurel that had just been broken off her shoulder, and her body began to recover slowly. Obviously, she Did not escape the random bombing covered by this firepower.
"A poor imitation." Nelson shook his head. He raised his wand, ready to completely destroy this place. Before he started, he asked teasingly, "Is the fate of this place being razed to the ground by me?"
"Why do you have such hostility towards me? Wiltonin by the stream," Pythia asked softly, "Because I am a prophet bound by fate, but you are a man who does not believe in fate." Are you a prophet? Are you angry with me because of your resistance to fate, and you are not even willing to talk to me calmly? You know, fate can often reveal deeper secrets. You love history so much, and you are so obsessed with the truth. This kind of time to be able to talk to fate, but shrink back?"
"Are you Destiny?" Nelson asked back, "A little more, Goddess of Destiny is fine too."
"Of course I'm not." Pythia shook his head sadly, "If I were, I wouldn't be bound by fate to such a situation."
"Have you mastered your destiny? Do you have the right to speak about it?"
"Of course I don't. No matter how far a prophet can see, he will inevitably be unable to distinguish between phantoms and reality."
"Then why do you teach me?" Nelson smiled, "Your last prophecy was turned into a joke by me, what position do you have to say these pretentious words to me? People who can be manipulated by their own delusions, I just think you are a mental patient, just as ridiculous as that despicable Hai Erbo."
"This is our saddest fate, Wiltling by the stream," Pythia's face showed deep sorrow, but this expression was not her own, but came from many people Nelson had met , the sadness in the memory is condensed on the same face, which makes people feel worried, "It is impossible to overthrow the prophecy."
"I'm very busy. If it's normal, I might take the time to chat with you. No matter who you are or what you are, if you just want to prove that the bullshit prophecy about Auschwitz is unshakable, then you have It's successful, go to that empty city to find the number of lives that meet the standard," Nelson was a little annoyed, he felt that he had wasted half a day just to prove that he imagined a fool, which made him even more annoyed at the caster, "I'm not interested in your beliefs. I don't believe it. You don't have to force me to believe it. I really don't want to portray the hero who fights Haierbo in my heart as a man who sucks the gas seeping from the underground of the Temple of Apollo and then says hello." Crazy nonsense... I'm really busy now, and when the Berlin thing is over, we can have a good and in-depth exchange of these ghostly things."
"I've said the same thing to you, but you don't know, Weltening by the stream," Pythia didn't seem to be offended by Nelson's unkind words, and continued to say flatly, "As you said, My prophecy comes from the gas seeping out of the cracks in the rock formations under the temple of Apollo, you should know what that is."
"..."
Nelson raised his arm and waved his wand.
"That's right, that's the Lost Fog, that crack connects the world of the dead," Pythia closed her eyes, letting the strong light swallow her, "Just like when I left it to you, next, let's go see Destiny."